The MusicBox (ON HOLD)
by Noyz
Summary: When someone dies, it doesn't just affect one person, but a whole community even if that community doesn't realize that. Sometimes the soul of the deceased can't move on. Often enough a soul attaches itself to an object. Mikado's attaches to a Music box SzMk
1. Author Notice

**STOP! YES YOU! STOP! PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING AS IT IS IMPORTANT!**

This is a notice for this whole story! So I need you to read this!

There have been changes to some characters for this story to work! So to understand it I want to make sure you guys read this!

First off, **THERE ARE AGE CHANGES,** so I will replay that now

Shizuo Heiwajima, Masaomi Kida, Kyohei Kadota – 17

Mikado Ryugamine – 16 (age of death)

Izaya Orihara, Erika Karisawa, Walker Yumasaki – 16

Kasuka Heiwajima, Celty Sturluson – 20

Shinra Kishitani – 19

Anri Sonohara, Saki Mikajima – 15

Then there are relationship changes I'll replay those now

Kasuka is the **ELDEST** Heiwajima son! so he's Shizuo's older brother

Kida and the Heiwajimas are **COUSINS**!

Kida never **MEET OR BEFRIENDED** Mikado as when Mikado was alive, as Kida was just 14!

Izaya and Mikado were step brothers before Mikado died at the age of 16! They were close.

Mikado had a crush on Kasuka before he died! It is unknown if Kasuka returned those feelings!

Shinra is a close friend of Kasuka, and is often at Heiwajimas' household

Kyohei, Erika and Walker are friends, they are old friends of Mikado and Anri, and they clearly dislike Izaya after Mikado's death, why will be revealed later on.

Anri was a next door neighbor and old time best friend of Mikado; as a result she and Izaya are friends.

**SUMMARY:**

When someone dies, it doesn't just affect one person, but a whole community even if that community doesn't realize that. Sometimes the soul of the deceased can't move on. Often enough a soul attaches itself to an object.

That is what Mikado Ryugamine's soul does after a horrible fire takes his life. But rather get attached to the land that holds the place of his death. Mikado's soul attaches itself to his old and favorite Music-Box. Mikado lays in a 'deep slumber' like state until his Music-Box is picked up by one Shizuo Heiwajima.

Determined to have people know the truth about his death, Mikado makes contact with Shizuo, only to realize the boy can't hear his voice. With the help of Shizuo, will Mikado's soul be able to move on? Or is he forever doomed to stay with his Music-Box?

**WARNIGS:**

Child abuse, Character Deaths, OCs, OCC-ness, AU, Human!Celty, Ghost!Mikado, Age Changes, Mentions of Rape, Izaya, violence, Homosexual relationships, Hetero relationships

If you want to see what Mikado's music box looks like, use the url below. Just remove the spaces.

www . collectors world west images/11 %20japa nese%20 ( top). Jpg


	2. Prolouge

**Disclaimer:** no I do not own DRRR!... I tried and failed at getting ownership of that awesome show!

**Chapter Warnings:** Character Death, Angst, Child Abuse

**Words:** 3,312

**A/N: **OMG! I'm sorry that I haven't uploaded in Normality, ;-; i have writers block for that story DX

So I posted this story instead... . um... This story is dark... VERY DARK! And don't blame me if you cry...

OH! Thanks to Aya-chan's Alice for over looking this first and pointing out some mistakes... :3 i don't think the two of us caught them all XD so please tell me if you find any mistakes...

so yeah... on with the story

* * *

The teen boy sat tucked into a corner. Tears ran down his thin pale face. He dare not to let a single noise make its way past his lips less it grabs the attention of the arguing pair downstairs. His parents were at it again. Seemly forgetting their eldest son that was still home, as the youngest was out with a couple of friends.

The youngest wouldn't be seen for at least another twenty four hours, and he wishes he was a brave as the boy three years younger than him. But he isn't, he can never be. Crowds scare him, for he has seen the dark side of them too often. So he rather likes staying home. Except on nights like this where he wishes he wasn't too much of a coward to leave his house.

A loud shout, door slamming shut, and then it's quiet.

The worst was over. Hopefully it wasn't the boy's father that was still here. His already pale skin turned paler at the thought. He rather faces his step-mother even though he never warmed up to the woman that believed she could take his mother's place in his father's heart.

The house was silent except for the odd sounds in the kitchen, and he knew that it was just his step-mother home.

He stood slowly, trying to gain balance, after sitting in the same position for the last three hours refusing to move an inch most of his muscles had locked up, and his legs had fallen 'asleep'. It took a while for him to gain his footing but even when he got it, he moved slowly just in case he was wrong, and it wasn't his step-mother downstairs but rather his father.

The thought of it being his father still down in the kitchen stops him for a second. But what would his father be doing in the kitchen in the first place? Dad always thought it was a place for women, for women to prepare his dinner. He still believed that it was OK to treat women like slaves.

The sounds in the kitchen have stopped, and his faith that it's his step-mother stop. His hand hovers over the door knob, and he's too scared to continue and just open the, damn, door.

He is able to get his hand to wrap around the icy cold metal before his nerves end. He takes his hand off of it, and goes to his desk to take his medicine. Medicine the doctors prescribed help his weak heart, one to help him sleep and the other one for depression, as most doctors thought he was depressed.

He downs them without the help of water or any other liquid. He lies on his bed, curling under the covers. And not even twenty minutes later, he can feel the sleeping pill kicking in. Ten minutes later he is asleep.

When he awakes next, he can feel the medicine is still in him. As his body feels overly heavy, and his mind seems too slow, he shivers as cold air brushes against his bare skin. But... he ... doesn't remember taking off his jeans, or his socks and slippers. His mind is moving too slowly for him to recognize the danger. He just wants to sleep.

When he tries to curl up, he finds that he can't move his arms. And that's when the panic settles in his mind. But, he, can't, get, his, body to work. And that scares him more than anything. His body is still too heavy with the medicine to work; he now truly hates his medication. Even though it is working the way it is supposed to.

While he is struggling with his body, trying to make it work is when he sees it. A flash of color in the corner of his eye, his body doesn't tense, once again because of the medication.

A hand rests itself on his head, and he lets out a hoarse sound. His mouth feels full of cotton so he can't talk – can't scream for help, and what he would give to have a drink right now.

"Shhh." the voice is male, and defiantly belongs to his father. That makes him want to continue fighting against the medication. His body refuses to listen, and his body relaxes further. "You are safe."

For normal people hearing their father say that has them relaxing, but he's not normal, just as his father isn't normal, so a few tears come and his eyes burn telling him that this is just the beginning.

"Are you uncomfortable?" of course he is, he's missing his pants, and he can't move his body, plus he has just showed the man some of his fear which is a big 'No-No' so of course he isn't comfortable. A tsk-ing sound comes from above, and the boy can't find it in himself to look at the older man.

"It looks like you took more of your medication then you were meant to." He wants to scream or shout, but his voice is dead. He can smell the alcohol oozing of the man that dare calls him his father, Ryuya. Ryuya kneels so that he is face to face with his son, a soft smile on his face. "This is for your own good." It's a lie both of them know it is. Yet no one besides the pair knows it is, so no one can help.

Ryuya stands, and he slowly covers his half-naked son up, as if trying to add some sort of comfort to what he is about to do. Just as sleep is about to take over the small boy, was when the first hit came hard and fast.

It awoke his mind, and only part of his body. But still the medication was too strong, and soon had the body heavy with sleep. So that adrenaline was unable to flow threw his body. The blanket covering his body wasn't just to keep it warm, but also to stop any bruises or evidence of this happening from forming. So even if Ryuya's son went to the police, there would be no evidence.

"Don't you love me?" it a question that he can't answer, not because of mouth full of cotton like feel, but because he never knows how to answer the question. So he doesn't. It's easier that way. "I love you, you know that right?" He doesn't say anything proceeding to piss off the angry drunk even more.

He loses track of how long his father stays hitting him hard enough to hurt never leaving a mark, but eventually the man leaves, leaving him with aching muscles. The medication is still flowing strong enough that he is still able to fall asleep.

When he awakes next, the medicine is mostly out of his system. He only knows this because his body doesn't feel too heavy, and at least he can move. He slips out of the comfort of the bed, trying not to go back to sleep, because that is the last thing he wants to do right now.

His bare feet hit the wood floor, and he shivers slightly. He forces his legs to move him to the closet so he can cover himself. He hates seeming vulnerable to anyone, exceptionally to his father. He reaches the closet with little difficulty and dresses in a simple white t-shirt and some jeans. He decides against choosing to put on socks as most likely he won't go outside or leave his room for a while.

He takes his medication like the good little boy he is, while wishing he doesn't have to. He hates how it makes his body fell tired and makes it hard to react fast to danger. Not like he ever is in any. He looks around his blank room, not a personal effect of his is shown, and all of it belongs to his father who wants to hide his true son away. But there is one thing that isn't hided, and doesn't belong to his father. It is small only about the size of his hand, his one true treasure.

It's an old Music-box that once belonged to his mother before her untimely death in a car accident five years ago. Days after his mother gave it to him, on his eleventh birthday. It played some old folklore song that he didn't know the lyrics to as his mother had been unable to teach him, even though she promised. But that is in the past now, and he forces it not to bother him anymore.

He reaches out and winds it up, wanting to hear the melody that calmed him down. The wood of it is cool on his skin; the top is covered in a simple flower design. Opening it, he allows the melody to wash over him, before settling down to do some homework. After all he put it off long enough.

What feels like hours later, and listening to the same song for god knows how many times, it dawns on him that it is too quiet in the house. He tenses, straining to hear any sound that lets him know there is someone else in the house. But he can't hear anything, and that scares him.

He stood, still straining to hear anything, while trying to make no noise. He reaches his door, and grasps the cold metal door knob. He slowly opens the door, and calls out, asking if anyone was home. But there is no reply. Thinking that they couldn't hear him, he left the safety of his room.

He barely made it a few footsteps outside of his room when the heat overcame him. Smoke lined the ceiling and his mind supplied what was happening. A fire had started, and he couldn't get out. He was on the third floor, and from the direction of the smoke and heat were coming from, the stairs were one fire. He was trapped.

He turned back and ran to his room slamming the door shut, but it was too late, some of the smoke had made its way into the room when he had opened the door. And more was leaking in from under the door.

He grabbed his mother's music-box and the phone. He dialed the number he was forced to remember should anything like this happen. A woman picked up asking what the matter was, but he couldn't get a sound out, and let out a choked sob.

"Please..." he said, finally finding his voice. "Please help... a fire..."

"_Hello? Are you OK?" _The voice reminded of his mother. It was so full of concern, even if she didn't know him. His mother was a lot like that. _"Did you say fire?"_

"A fire... it's already climbing the stairs." He whispered. He knew it hadn't taken the bottom floor out yet, as the kitchen and furnace was on the middle level of the house for some reason or another. He shook with fear, wondering if they would get here fast enough.

But some part of him knew they wouldn't because they lived a little too far, a little too far from civilization. So it would take them longer to get here to the house.

"_OK... can I have __your address?"_ The woman asked. Even he could hear the small amount of fear in the woman's voice. And that forced tears to come. He gave the information of his house to her easy enough, but his voice broke often. _"What's your name?"_ Such a strange thing to ask a stranger, once again, he easily gave the information over easily. He asked for hers, she replied with _"Akira."_ She didn't give a last name like he didn't. It's fair he decides.

Smoke is still filling his room, and he coughed violently as he took a deep breath. Akira asked if he was alright, though they both know he isn't. "I... I just ..." he coughs again, struggling to breath. It hurts, and he's gasping for air, taking in more of the smoke as he does. He claws at his throat and drops the phone.

Off handily he wonders if Kasuka would miss him or if Izaya would follow through with taking over the Dollars like he had asked. He wonders if Anri can find it in herself to be strong enough to push off the guys that want to sexually harass her and if she can gain the nerve to ask out the boy, Kida Masaomi a boy she's been crushing on for a while, out. He wonders if Kasuka ever once returned the feelings he had for the older boy. But somehow he knows the older doesn't.

Then he just stopped. Stopped struggling because he knows he's going to die anyways. He pats himself, and wonders where his mother's music-box was. But it's not on him, like he believed it to be – maybe it fell to the ground while he was talking? – And he can't find it in himself to care anymore. He's tired again and wants to sleep.

He glances at his alarm clock, one that gave both the time and the date, and wanted to cry. He had been sixteen for the last eleven – nearly twelve – hours, and he hadn't noticed. No one had come to wish him a happy birthday, but then knowing his step-brother, he probably wanted to throw a surprise birthday party. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes but didn't fall.

His gaze turned blank as he stared at the clock, his chest stopped rising and falling, and his heart sputtered trying to keep beating but it slowly stopped.

* * *

Izaya Orihara skipped – yes skipped – merrily while carrying a small wrapped box in his hands. He was rather proud of himself, as after many hours wasted spending time at the mall, the thirteen year old had finally found the PERFECT present for his older brother Mikado Ryugamine's birthday.

Though they weren't related at all in blood, Izaya had come to see the elder teen as his older brother. Sure it might have taken nearly the whole time their parents had been married but better it happened sometime right? He knew from the time that they first meet, Mikado already regarded him as a close family member, as Izaya had only been eight at the time.

His mother had meet Mikado's father months before his wife's death. They even had an affair going on. And three months after the woman's death Mikado's father and Izaya's mother had married each other. But no matter what Izaya's mother did or said, Izaya refused to take on the "Ryugamine" name. He liked his name as it was, thank you very much!

But that didn't matter, what matter was, he found the PERFECT present. And what was this so called PERFECT present? Well it was quite simple; it was an IPod touch, the third generation with 64 GB! The older teen would flip! Mikado had been going 'gaga' over this new one, much better than the last and had saved whatever money he could.

So while the elder was asleep, Izaya snuck into his room – Mikado's pills really knocked him out – and took a few dollars that he was missing in order to buy the present. And he was safe as long as Mikado never found out about that.

Izaya held the present close to his chest so that he wouldn't lose it as he turned the last corner before he was home, and stopped in his tracks. There was a large crowd of people standing around, along with both the fire department guys and an EMT.

But that wasn't what had his attention.

It was the large cloud of smoke rising into the sky, above where his house was supposed to be. But it wasn't there. He heard people whispering that there was someone in the house, and his heart stopped.

"No...No..." Izaya whispered to himself. As if denying the truth would be the only way to protect himself, but it was foolish, Mikado always stayed home on weekends, and most days.

He pushed through the crowd, trying to get closer, and somehow he had dropped the perfectly wrapped present, that didn't matter anymore. As he was breaking through the crowd a hand clapped down on his shoulder, he turned his eyes ready to snap at whoever stopped him, to see Anri with her eyes bright with tears.

She shook her head, "I-…Izaya…." She muttered, and Izaya wanted to deny it for a bit longer. A bit longer that Mikado hadn't been in the house during the fire, "He…They found him in his room…." She offered the little information she had. "I'm sorry." She was apologizing to both of them.

Izaya was to shell shocked to even cry like she was, and found himself numbly wrapping his arms around her. He wasn't close to Anri, he'd meet her through Mikado, as the two – Mikado and Anri of course – were as close as siblings were. They talked a little, and respected the role both of them played in the older boy's life.

Anri's thin arms tightened around him, and he bit his lip, trying to stop the tears. He buried his head into her shoulder to hide the tears falling now. Another thin arm wrapped around him, and he briefly looked up and met his mother's auburn eyes spilling over with tears.

"I'm sorry son." Ryuya stood off to the side, looking at the house with a glint in his eye, and Izaya couldn't place why it seemed strange to him. Ryuya's black eyes meet his and Izaya nearly growled when he noticed they weren't wet from crying – they were dry. Rage flooded his blood, how dare Ryuya? Does he not have tears to spill for his child that died today?

Izaya turned his head harshly away from the sight, and instead glared harshly at the cops that walked over to his step-dad to talk about what had happened. Izaya knew, no one was home save Mikado, Ryuya and his mother were at a business meeting that was supposed to last most of the day and had come home to find this – one of their sons dead.

Izaya had spent the better part of the day with Erika and Walker – Mikado's friends that also were doing last minute shopping for Mikado – trying to find the IPod touch for Mikado. He knew what it looked like so far – suicide.

Ryuya talked to the police in hushed tones, trying not to upset his wife and step-son any further. He explained what each was doing that day. Then something they said startled Izaya, "Well he did call the emergency line, and we're beginning to think this was arson." Ryuya scuffed slightly, "My son was depressed, if you check his medical records, there are some medications for depression. Maybe he wimped out at the last second and by then it was too late." The officers looked shock, and then one snapped out to the other to check Mikado's medical records.

Izaya bite his lip from saying something, and Anri pulled away, but leaned in close to whisper to him softly "Mikado did take medication for his depression… but he wasn't suicidal! We all would have known!" Izaya nodded in agreement, wondering if it was true. Would Mikado have told them if he was considering suicide? No he wouldn't, he hated worrying people. Mikado would have hid it away until the last second.

Izaya's mother turned to him, "Izaya… we have to go now." Izaya nodded, he let go of Anri, promising to call her later, or at least text and he had her number in case of emergency. Mikado was over protective like that. Tears gather in his eyes again after having finally stopped at the thought of Mikado.


	3. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Is there any ShizuoxMikado goodness in DRR! No? then I obviously don't own it….

**Chapter Warnings:** Hints towards Rape, Child abuse, and character death

**Words:** 2158

**A/N:** This chapter being posted is all thanks to Aya-chan who edited it :3

If any of u have questions, don't hesitate to send me a PM, and I'll answer any questions you may have

Baba-Chan = Auntie

* * *

Heiwajima Kasuka had been shocked to learn of Mikado's death. Even though he had kept his blank face on, he was devastated. He was one of the few friends the younger teen had, and had felt practically close to the teen, it would make sense since they had been childhood friends.

Sure Kasuka and Mikado had grown apart at one point in their lives, around the time Mikado's mother had died, and Mikado was put into the hospital for his weakening heart, along with the introduction of Mikado's step-brother, Orihara Izaya. Mikado had at first hated his step brother, but after talking with Kasuka, he opened up to the idea of Izaya being his younger brother.

When Kasuka had gotten over his shock, he became hip joint with his brother for a week, the week that he had been able to take off from school - along with Shizuo of course. Shizuo hadn't really been close to Mikado, but he had met the teen a couple times. It was during that week that Kasuka started becoming more distant than he already was.

The eldest Heiwajima brother of course went to the funeral, though he had nothing to say to his only best friend's younger brother. Kasuka could see that Izaya glare mainly at his step-father, probably holding resentment towards the older man. He watched as an overly busty girl around Izaya's age come over to his side and hugged him. Kasuka looked away. He was silent as the preacher said some words - talking about the boy being in God's arms now -Kasuka almost couldn't stop himself from laughing at the notion of their being a God. If there was a God, then he would have been able to have someone save Mikado – wouldn't He? After the funeral, Kasuka walked over to the family and said his sorrys and left, he couldn't stand the gloom anymore.

He of course tried spending anytime he wasn't at work, in the convenient store down the street, or at school, with his younger brother. It wasn't much time, as most days he headed straight to work after school, and he also wanted to start his acting dream. Mikado had pushed him – when he was still alive – to follow his dream of becoming an actor.

On a whim, Kasuka decided to take his brother to the open air market, just to look around there. Maybe it could be called his fault for all the trouble that had followed afterwards. Maybe it was just fate that three years after losing Mikado, Kasuka had started losing Shizuo. Maybe... just maybe... the Gods had some twisted plan for the pair.

* * *

"How was school Shizuo?" Kasuka asked as soon as his brother entered the small apartment the pair of them lived at. Kasuka had moved out of his parents as soon as he could, Shizuo followed after him.

The seventeen year old scowled slightly. "That damn Orihara was being a pain again. What the hell is his problem?" Shizuo growled out as he headed to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of milk, his favorite drink.

Kasuka was silent for a moment, making sure his brother had started drinking before speaking. "Maybe he likes you." The effect was immediate; Shizuo managed to choke on the milk and spat it out. He dropped the glass bottle, and wiped his mouth, while glaring at Kasuka who sipped his tea pretending to be innocent.

"W-what the-" Shizuo shouted at his older brother.

"Language Shizuo, language." Kasuka said. Shizuo shook slightly in anger, before turning around and reaching once again for another bottle of milk. "Hey, there's an open market this weekend. Do you want to go?"

Shizuo took a few gulps of milk before answering. "I have a paper due Monday. But yeah I'll go." Shizuo finished his milk before excusing himself upstairs to start on the paper due.

An hour later, Kasuka called up the stairs that he was heading to work now. Shizuo was half way done with the rough draft before he decided to go online and, if he was lucky, maybe Kadota or Kida would be online and he could ask for some help with the science homework he had.

* * *

**.: Tsugaru has entered the chat:.**

**[Setton]:** good afternoon Tsugaru-san!

**[Bakyura]:** Yo Tsugaru-san!

**[Tsugaru]:** Hey you two, hey Bakyura can I ask for some help on the homework?

**[Bakyura]:** Sure NP!

**[Tsugaru]:** Do you know the answer to number 5?

**[Bakyura]: **... sorry... no DX I'm stuck on that prob 2

**[Setton]:** what's the question? Maybe I can help.

**.: MONTA has entered the chat:.**

**[Bakyura]:** thank god you're here!

**[MONTA]:** ?

**[Tsugaru]:** Hello Monta

**[Setton]:** evening Monta-san

**[MONTA]:** hello Tsugaru, Setton, and Bakyura

**[Bakyura]:** Do you have the answer to question 5?

**[MONTA]:** *sigh* yeah the answer is C

**[Tsugaru]:** thanks Monta.

**[Setton]:** Sorry everyone, I have to go now. Date night

**[Bakyura]:** oohhhh have fun~!

**[Tsugaru]:** bye Setton-san

**[MONTA]:** bye

**.:Setton has left the chat:.**

**[Bakyura]:** did u no? its that time of year again

**[Tsugaru]:** what time of year?

**[MONTA]:** oh yeah, can't believe I almost forgot.

**[Bakyura]:** how could u not no Tsugaru~!

**[Bakyura]:** its the 1 time of year tht Orihara-san isn't at skool

**[MONTA]:** yeah how could u not know that?

**[Tsugaru]:** I try to avoid the guy as much as possible.

**[Tsugaru]:** I still have to finish some things for class, so I'll leave now

**[Bakyura]:** Le gasps! but y? u hav all wekend!

**[MONTA]:** don't listen to that idiot Tsugaru

**[MONTA]:** I think I'm going to follow your example and finish the hw 2

**[Tsugaru]:** alright bye

**.:Tsugaru has left the chat:.**

**[MONTA]:** bye Bakyura

**.:MONTA has left the chat:.**

**[Bakyura]:** MEANIES!

**.:Bakyura has left the chat:.**

**.:Chat room is empty:.**

* * *

If someone asked what Shizuo remembered of Ryuugamine Mikado, all he would have said was blue - after he had remembered who Ryuugamine Mikado was since he was horrible with names. Blue had always surrounded the boy, because of his eye color being blue; blue when the boy was working on something - like homework or studying with Kasuka, stormy blue when the boy was conflicted about something, and dull blue when the boy was sad, along with the fact that Mikado went to Raira Academy and they had blue school uniforms.

Shizuo also remembers that Mikado smiled, even if he didn't want to be smiling, like the time he found out Kasuka had a girlfriend. And his blue eyes holding a pain look in them that, also, was the last time Shizuo saw Mikado before his death three weeks later. It was only then did it seem that Shizuo knew Mikado cared for his brother, more than anything.

Sure he had only met Mikado a few times, but the boy's blue eyes always were on his mind, and he always wondered what Mikado would look like truly happy; would his eyes be overly bright? What would his smile look like? It was strange to think about a dead person in that way, but Shizuo thought like that.

If anyone asked what Shizuo's favorite color was, like in that stupid assignment that they had done in their science class, Shizuo would have to answer blue. It was the color that seemed most on his mind than any other color, so he added it up to being his favorite color.

* * *

Shizuo groaned and rolled out of bed, a quick glance at the alarm clock beside his bed showed it was that only 7:35 in the morning. He ran a hand through his hair and reached into the night stand to grab the pack of cigarettes that where there.

He quickly lit one, rubbing his eyes as he inhaled deeply and exhaled. Kasuka knew of his smoking habit, as he was the one that got Shizuo his cigarettes, but always had this disappointed look on his face every time he bought them.

He stood and pulled on some jeans, and headed downstairs to get something to eat, letting the ashes fall to the floor. Kasuka surprised him by being in the kitchen.

"Morning." Kasuka greets, Shizuo just nods and reaches for the glass of milk that was waiting for him.

"Is Masaomi coming with us?" Shizuo asks, though he'd rather not have to deal with his energetic cousin, Kida Masaomi. He doesn't think he can deal with the other blonde.

Kasuka takes a sip of coffee, "Yes. Baba-Chan gave us permission to take him to the market; she worries that he's having a bad influence by hanging around Orihara-san."

Shizuo grumbled under his breath at the name of the one person he hated with a burning passion. "When do we leave?" he asked instead.

"Around noonish. We'll have to stop by baba-Chan's place first."

* * *

_He found himself fading into and out of consciousness, not understanding what was happening most of the time. He felt someone pick him up and examine him, he often heard muffled voices as people talked about him, but most days, when he was set outside, he would bathe in the warmth from the sun, happy and content as he was usually lucid, and it made for the perfect place to nap. Sometimes though when he was awake, it was cold and very dark, darker than if his eyes were just closed. There was nothing to do than sleep._

_He didn't know his name, well he did, but sometimes it was so far away from his conscience that it was hard to recall what his name was. But there was usually nothing he could do but rack his brain for memories, what little he could remember anyways. Sometimes the memories came easily, other times it was harder to remember. _

_He could remember his mother, a kind woman with sparkling blue eyes, which he had inherited from her. Hiromi, his mother that spent her Sundays making cookies and other sweets, who had cried and held her son when she had learned of his weak heart. But mostly he remembered being wrapped up in her arms and having her tell him stories about princesses and princes, and all the happy ever after stories. _

_The clearest memory is of a night when he was younger; his mother had decided at last second that she had needed something from the store when she was cooking. His father wasn't home so he couldn't stay home, and had to go with her. His mother strapped into the seat next to her, despite the fact that he normally should have been sitting in the back seat, by the order of his father, but his mother just held her finger to her lips and told him that it would be their little secret. He smiled happily and fiddled with the radio, and as they were driving into the city, like the saying, all hell broke loose. Sharp bangs pierced threw the air, and the car swerved, and then he blacked out. When he came to, he was in the hospital, with his father sitting next to him, with that new lady and her son. He had asked where his mother was, but was only given the answer that she had passed away. _

_He had been given new heart medication, and that's when the strange show of love that his father gave him started happening. The first time it had happened, he remembered crying out in pain, and blood caked his thighs, and he had snot and tears that ran down his face. His father had ordered him to strip his bed sheets and to have them cleaned. He'd then dragged his son to the bathroom and harshly scrubbed him clean. The other type of love started after that, when his father was drunk and didn't want to do the other type of love, and he'd be beaten but no bruises would be shown, just the aches and stiff muscles that came with them._

_He was jarred from his thoughts by the feel of someone picking him up and turning them around their large hands. He wanted to grumble and groan at them; feeling the sun warming him up, all he wanted was to sleep and nap the time away. But when he opened his eyes, if his breath could be taken away, it would have. Dark eyes were staring at him with a blank look and long chin length blond hair, obviously fake, framed the face. He froze in place and jumped away._

_He didn't recognize the tall teen, but something about him was familiar, though it was hard for him to place the blond teen. There was someone standing next to the blond teen, gesturing towards the box that seemed eerily familiar also, being held by the blond haired teen. Before he could question anything else, he felt the treads of sleep overcome him, and as much as he wanted to stay awake, he allowed the darkness to reclaim him, and fell asleep once more._


	4. AN

Dear Readers,

I won't be ble to update until the twenty first; I am trying to make sure that I don't fail all my classes :3 Sorry.

Noyz


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